


Delicacy

by perfectcosima



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Blood, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3315398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectcosima/pseuds/perfectcosima





	Delicacy

Danny sits in front of the camera, the rest of the crew gathered around her.

 

“So,” she says, her voice breaking.

 

Carmilla is in the background, pacing, not wanting to listen, wanting to forget.

 

“Something totally unexpected happened.”

 

Nobody is able to maintain eye contact with the camera, save for Danny, who can’t look anywhere else.

 

“We won. We actually won.”

 

The room is so silent that all that can be heard are labored breaths, suppressed tears.

 

“We won, and Laura is dead.”

 

\---

 

She should go back to her own room, to her sorority, to her sisters, but that would mean a walk alone, and she can’t. She can’t be alone, and she can’t leave Carmilla alone, can’t abandon that vampire who looks like Danny feels, like her world has been torn apart. Like nothing is left but a gaping hole that feels too much.

 

She doesn’t want to feel it, the pain. Nobody had thought it would end this way. Laura couldn’t die. She was the thread, the heart, the humanity. They loved her. They loved her so much.

 

It hurts. It hurts so badly. Neither of them have spoken, they just sit there in silence, Carmilla on her bed, Danny in the chair.

 

She looks over, and Carmilla is looking back, and their eyes meet, and there is fire, and there is darkness, pleading and unshed tears, and she stands.

 

She stands and she walks over, until she’s right in front of the other girl, towering over her.

 

It’s a proposition, but not, it’s a demand, but not, it’s… it’s what they have when Laura is gone. Each other.

 

“Make me forget.”

 

It doesn’t matter which one says it, they won’t remember it in the morning anyway.

 

At least they hope they won’t.

“Make me not feel.”

 

Not love, no, there’s nothing left to feel love. The heart is gone.

 

The only thing left is passion and fire, and pain.

 

They don’t move together, they aren’t in synchronized harmony. It’s carnage, primal, fangs out, and Danny is pressed against a wall, and all she wants is to scream, to forget the scene passing through her mind in an infinite loop, and she knows that Carmilla wants it too as they rip the clothes from each other’s bodies, unnecessary tears and rips.

 

They don’t want to keep them anyway.

 

And it goes like that until they’re standing in rags, although standing is a funny term, because Danny is leaning against the door, chest heaving as the vampire kneels in front of her, and she’s moaning, but it isn’t enough, not enough to forget, even as she comes with a desperate cry.

 

She would do the same if she thought it would make any difference, if she thought that it would distract either of them from the empty bed, the elephant in the room.

 

They can’t remember when they started on the alcohol, but there it is, heavy on both of their breaths, and the bottles are empty, but they can still remember, and they wonder how, how they can barely remember their own names, but they can remember hers.

 

Not that they say it, but they see it in each other’s eyes, hear it in their moans.

 

Laura. Laura. Laura.

 

If they thought it was rough before, it is more so now, and their battle wounds are complemented by scratch marks, by new, angry, red scars.

 

They’re on the bed, on Carmilla’s bed, because standing required effort, strength that grief had robbed from them, that their adrenaline fueled bodies couldn’t sustain.

 

Danny’s fingers curl inside Carmilla, and she cries out, not caring who heard as she lowers her head to Danny’s breast, meaning only to deliver harsh licks, but then her fangs are out, and the pale skin is so close, and Danny is nodding.

 

The sharp points of her teeth break the skin delicately, a stark contrast to the entire night.

 

Delicacy stained red with blood.

 

Delicacy that causes a sudden gasp as Danny suddenly finds that she had been holding her breath.

 

Delicacy leading to agony, leading to bliss, as Carmilla sucks away the pain until Danny lays there on the bed, eyes wide as Carmilla lifts her head.

 

“Please,” she whispers desperately.

 

“It’s not what you think. It’s nothing like you think.”

 

“I don’t care.” Danny’s hand clutches Carmilla’s wrist, her voice raw with pain. “Please.”

 

Fangs to flesh and Carmilla’s blood is dripping from her wrist into Danny’s mouth.

 

Breathing stops and Danny’s eyes opened, finally seeing, finally not feeling. “Thank you,” she murmurs, taking the glass of blood that Carmilla holds out to her.

 

“It won’t last.” The lack of feeling. Carmilla had hoped the same thing. She knew what it was like, the high, the bloodlust.

 

“I know.”

 

This would be her moment of weakness. She could blame it on the pain. She wasn’t thinking. She would never admit that she did it because she can’t bear to lose another person that she loves.

  
Can’t bear being alone again.


End file.
